


As I Lay Me Down To Sleep

by lightshinesthru



Series: Before I go to Sleep [1]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Amnesia, Brain Damage, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Flirting, Hopefully you will agree, Hurt Eggsy, Hurt/Comfort, I promise, If you were looking for a sad ending, M/M, Or maybe sorry, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Past Torture, Plus it would spoil the story, Psychological Trauma, Slow Burn, Some relationships not listed because of the suspense and drama, The comfort will not come for a while, Things are confusing and not what they seem, Thriller, Torture, Unreliable Narrator, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-04-05 12:00:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4179048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightshinesthru/pseuds/lightshinesthru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy wakes up in an unfamiliar place with a man that says they're married, but that he lost his memory in an accident. Harry is gentle and caring but something seems off to Eggsy. They live in middle of nowhere and Harry doesn't like when he leaves the home even for walks. Eggsy starts to hear things and has flashes of memory that make him think he may not want to remember what happened to him. Who are the people in his memory and why do they make him feel safer than Harry?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This summary is crap, but this story is kind of convoluted and hard to summarize. It's loosely based on the film Before I go to Sleep. I was inspired within the first 5 minutes to write a Kingsman fic based on the film because its freaking Colin Firth and Mark Strong! Totally see the movie, but know in your heart that my story isn't exactly the same. I really hope y'all like this and I was surprised that I didn't see another fic based on this story, but I may have missed it. 
> 
> Right now I'm anticipating this being pretty much all Eggsy POV. The timeline will be discussed in the story but this is a few years after V-Day. I may do some cut away, but that would lessen the impact of the story. It's not britpicked and will probably sound a little OOC, but again this is Eggsy's internal thoughts after being in Kingsman. I tend to think Eggsy's accent and attitude are played up a bit. I have no difficulty believing that Eggsy uses his appearance and accent to make people underestimate him. And its cannon that he's very smart and can slip into a posh accent easily. Probably imitating Harry, the adorable little shit. I have been trying to figure out a Kingsman fic and thank Netflix, one fell into my lap. 
> 
> Please let me know if you like it, hate it, think it could be improved in some way. Happy reading and I don't own Kingsman or the characters, to my never ending heartbreak.

I woke suddenly with none of the hazy drowsiness that was normal. There was no lingering in softness between the world of dreams and the harshness of my daily reality. Before I consciously decided my mind started an inventory of the unfamiliar surroundings, because there was nothing familiar that I could immediately sense. Things I never realized I noticed that normally flooded my senses. The smell of baby powder was absent, the overlay of rancid grease, dirty clothes, cheap alcohol, and underwashed bodies were not present.

 

I loved my mother, but she had long since given up on maintaining our home. Of course I blamed Dean for this, almost entirely, though I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thoroughly pissed at my mother for shacking up with him in the first place. Wherever I was it smelled wonderful. The air was clean and crisp with a distinct lack of car exhaust and pollution so readily found in the city. Though how I would have ended up in the country was beyond me. 

 

I felt the first real stirrings of panic when I noticed a weight across my waist. I looked down and saw a bare arm with well-manicured nails. My heart stuttered and then pounded harshly. I fought to control my breathing and try to understand why I was filled with such panic. I had a long and varied history of one-night stands and I wasn’t always particular about gender. So a bare male arm around me in a strange (though lovely and comfortable) bed was not the strangest wake up I ever experienced. The sheets beneath me were some disgustingly high thread count that felt like satin against my skin. They smelled freshly laundered with no stale scent of sex or sweat, which would be expected with a quick shag. The pale weak light of early morning lit dust motes in the air. I watched the light shift and tried to think rationally. For some reason, I felt like I couldn't leave. 

 

I realized I was on edge and for some reason my senses seemed sharper. I was noticing things that should never occur to me like possible exits and cataloguing everything in the room that could be a weapon. These thoughts were disturbingly familiar and I could make these associations without conscious thought. My conscious mind was horrified at the process of analyzing the time it would take to jump up, cross the room, grab the vase and brain the person in bed followed by several alternate scenarios involving close quarters combat with sheets and pillows as weapons.

 

I gingerly lifted the unfamiliar extremity from my waist and sat up being careful not to wake the man. I turned and looked at him hoping for some sign of familiarity. The man’s face was attractive enough and posh looking, though that could have an assumption based on the home. He had dark hair and not unpleasant features, but something about him set my teeth on edge. I wasn’t above a hate fuck, but that wasn’t my preference and something about this man did not sit right. I stood and moved toward the bathroom where the door was partially opened. I suppose something caught my eye, perhaps the darkness on the wall contrasting with the stark white tiles. There hundreds of pictures, mainly of me but many with me and the man on the bed. My pulse ramped up immediately and my sense of _badwrongdangerdangerdanger_ skyrocketed. I spun around as the door opened. The man stood there smiling sadly.

 

“Good morning, Eggsy.”

 

“Who’re you then?”

 

“I’m your husband, Harry. Harry Hart.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eggsy learns some hard truths and meets someone new(?).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my jeez you guys! The kudos, comments, and hits! I'm going to get a ginormous ego and I won't be able to hold my head up enough to finish the story. Kidding, I would find a way. Thank you so so much for taking the time to read this. I forced myself to wait a day to post this, because I was totally inspired by the response I got to this piece. I hope this chapter lives up to the expectations. I was torn on the name to use so I kept Dr. Nasch from the film instead of Merlin. Should I make him Dr. Strong? I don't know. I'm so excited about this story. I have it pretty much planned out and it's a roller coaster, at least that's what I think. 
> 
> I wanted to address the rape/non-con tag as well. So it's kind of a dub-con though there is an attempted rape/non-con that I will make sure to note in the chapter that it occurs. If you have questions let me know. I don't want to trigger anyone. 
> 
> ****This chapter references child death. There are no details or descriptions, but practice self-care and don't read it if you might be triggered.****
> 
> Also the end of the chapter has some fairly verbatim dialogue from the movie, just to give credit where it's due. 
> 
> Again thanks for reading and I love hearing comments and seeing kudos so feel free to send as many as you'd like. Please let know if there are questions or suggestions. I am totally open to critique. Also I don't have a beta so mistakes are mine, though I try to proofread.

_Harry Hart_. The name was…it meant something to me, something good. I couldn’t understand why the name brought a sense of comfort, trust, and home but the man brought a sense of unease at best. The images seemed to prove this man was my husband. There were pictures of a wedding and vacations, a life built together. We looked happy.

 

“Why don’t I remember you?”

 

Harry turned his face from me and looked shaken. If he was acting, then he was the best I’d ever seen. I could see a sheen of tears in his eyes as he explained that an accident that left me with almost a decade of my memory missing. Thirty years old and married. My heart sped again and palms started to sweat.

 

“Where’s my mum and Daisy?”

 

“Eggsy, love, are you sure you want to talk about this right now?”

 

“Where’re they?” That same feeling of _bad_ and _wrong_ swamped me. I felt my stomach clench at the look of pity on his face. It had to be Dean, he must have finally snapped. Was that how I lost my memory? One kick too many to the head and there could easily be permanent brain damage. That's why I always tried to be there, so Dean would hit me instead of mum or the baby.

 

“Come downstairs and we’ll talk about it while I make breakfast.”

 

I must have looked more trusting than I felt because Harry came forward and tried to wrap his arms around me. I pulled back from him and he put his hand to my cheek. It was as warm and gentle as his eyes, “I love you Eggsy. I _love_ you.” Harry was all I knew in this world, so for the moment I allowed the embrace. I felt weak for doing it, but I was afraid and he offered me the comfort I sorely needed.

 

I sat at the table while Harry told me about V-Day and the microchips that almost destroyed the world. Life as it had been was just now starting to resume. The world’s population had been decimated, over 2 billion dead. Not  just ordinary people but almost all the world leaders, heads of corporations, banks, and so many others were wiped out in less than a day. It didn’t sound real. It sounded...like a movie. There was something about the phrase that brought a bittersweet feeling. An old ache that seemed to have healed, but still twinged with a phantom pain. 

 

“So what does that have to do with my mum and Daisy.”

 

“Eggsy darling, I’m so sorry. Your mother and Daisy died that day.”

 

“Wha’?” There wasn’t enough air in the room. The way he said it, so abrupt and though not intentionally cruel, it felt like a physical blow. A dismissal of everything they were or could have been. I pushed myself away from the table and felt the sting of tears and grief clawing at me.

 

“There were so many people, we tried to get to them…” He sounded distraught, whether for them or me I couldn’t be certain.

 

I stood up and went back to the room and tried to stop myself from hyperventilating. I couldn’t stop the deep gulping breaths, like the air was leaving the room. I don’t remember when I started crying or when the tears turned to loud sobs. Harry came in and held me. He pulled me down onto the bed and wrapped his arms around me. I didn’t stop him this time. All I could think was this was my fault, I wasn’t quick enough or smart enough or good enough to stop it. Though I wasn't sure what "it" was.

 

“There darling, I know. Shh. I’m here love.” His soft voice and cultured accent soothed me in a way that was surprising given my earlier distrust. But it was clear that he had comforted me like this many times. This was the first time I remembered hearing this, but it was obvious that Harry dealt with this almost daily. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would keep me around as broken as I was, certainly not an attractive and posh gentleman. All these thoughts combined with the knowledge that I was alone except for Harry, a man I wasn't even sure I could trust. When I cried as much as I could he took out a handkerchief. I don’t think I ever saw one outside of an old film. He dabbed my eyes and nose before pocketing the piece of cloth that admittedly felt much nicer than tissue on my swollen and tear-stained face.

 

“I’m sorry to do this darling, but I have to be at work. I’ve already messaged them that I’m running late. It’s lucky you’re married to the man in charge and I can come and go as I please.”

 

“I’m sorry for making you late.”

 

“You don’t need to apologize. My mobile number is programmed on the phone so call me if you need anything. Oh, and the maid and cook will be in later.”

 

“Don’t I do anything, like work?”

 

“Anything you learn, you would forget tomorrow. What sort of work would you be able to do given that impairment? Don’t worry; I make enough for the both of us. And you certainly do like to keep busy. There is a home gym in the basement. You spend most of your days there.”

 

“Is this it? I just sit at home all day, waiting for you?”

 

“Eggsy, can we please discuss this later.”

 

He may have worded it as a request, but it was an order. I knew that tone from years of living with Dean. An order couched in a request that was almost threatening. Not that Harry’s tone was particularly threatening, but it was close enough for me to feel uncomfortable questioning him. Harry left with a quick kiss to my temple and an ‘I love you’ before the door closed.

 

The silence of the home was oppressive bordering on ominous. I went through each room methodically cataloguing every item and inventorying what could be used in as a weapon, the entrances, and exits. This was disconcerting because it seemed ingrained and though I always felt the need to be aware of my surroundings thanks to Dean, this was a whole new level of that awareness.

 

The house was immaculate, thanks apparently to a professional cleaning lady or man which left me with nothing to do. I washed up from breakfast and put everything away. The abrupt tone of the phone ringing caused me to flinch. It was the first noise I heard in the home, with the exception of a clock. The ringing continued and I followed it to Harry’s home office. I wasn’t sure why Harry would call or who else would try to reach me.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Eggsy I’m pleased I reached you. I’m Dr. Nasch. I know that name doesn’t mean anything to you but I’ve been working with you the past few days to help you discover more about your memory loss.”

 

The man’s voice had a soft Scottish brogue and hearing him was somehow familiar. He directed me through my room to find a shoe box. For the first time since waking up I felt like I was on steady ground, not sinking or terrified. This man’s voice in particular guiding me through a situation felt right. I felt the tension ease from my shoulders as I found the camera. The doctor said he would wait while I replayed the video dairy.

 

“My name is Eggsy Unwin Hart. I’m 30 years old and I’m an amnesiac. Tonight as I sleep my mind will erase everything that I know today, everything that I did today. And I will wake up tomorrow like I did this morning thinking I have my whole life ahead of me. And the truth is...the truth is half my life is over because my mother and my sister are dead." The camera seemed to drop for a moment. There was a look of fear bordering on panic right before the camera shut of. "Oh shit, he’s coming.” The camera turned away from my face and then shut off. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Merlin and Eggsy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****Trigger Warning: There is some mention of torture. It's italicized so avoid that as needed.****
> 
> So you guys are freaking amazing! The kudos, comments, and hits are so so wonderful and appreciated. Seriously, I am so happy that people are interested in this story and I hope I can do it justice. 
> 
> The plot will be thickening and I'm not one hundred percent sure how I feel about this chapter. It feels a bit filler-ish? But I like to think the ending leaves people jonesing for the next chapter. 
> 
> As always happy reading and I love comments, even if it's something you think isn't clear or grammar, whatever. I'm also happy to just hear what people think. 
> 
> It's not brit-picked and I'm 'Murican, so ya know apologies for errors. And I don't own any of the lovely men or Kingsman. If I did, I would treat them so much better than Chester King did.

If I thought the video had answers it became immediately clear that it only created more questions. Was I always afraid of Harry? And why? He seemed gentle and I wanted to trust him, but even in the video there was an obvious distrust. I wondered if this might be a ‘bad day’ for me. Did I have days where I was reduced to a paranoid wreck and distrustful of everyone?

 

“Eggsy, are you still there?”

 

“Yeah, just Harry didn’t mention any doctors.” There was a long pause and a slight sigh on the line.

 

“I don’t believe Harry is aware you’re working with me.”

 

“Why wouldn’t I tell him?” The idea that I would hide seeing a doctor who was trying to help me regain my memory didn’t make sense. Given my condition it was guaranteed I didn’t have all the information, but this seemed like an even bigger piece was missing because surely Harry wanted me to get better. He said he loved me and seemed genuine. There was something that I either hadn’t told the doctor, or that he didn’t think I should know at this point. I could already tell that people keeping information to themselves to protect me was going to grate on my nerves, and quickly.

 

“To be honest, you didn’t tell me and I never asked.”

 

“Smart bloke like you must have a theory.”  I could almost hear the grin and imagine the doctor calling me a cheeky little shit. It was odd because flirting was normal for me, but this flirting felt more direct. There was little doubt in my mind I would follow through on any innuendo. 

 

“True enough.” There was another pause, long enough to make me wonder if he was debating what to tell me.

 

“I believe you weren’t sure you could trust him. Again, you never told me any specifics. We don’t exactly have the typical doctor patient relationship.” There was that tone again, more familiar than a doctor who I’d only known a few days. In fact, he sounded ready to take me up on the flirtation. I could tell that it wasn't just sexual interest, he sounded…fond of me. And for some reason, I knew he wasn't fond of many people. 

 

“So what exactly is our relationship, if it isn’t typical?”

 

“I come to your home. At your request it’s when no one else is present and we conduct your treatments. We have been to the hospital for an MRI.”

 

I could tell Dr. Nasch was trying to get things back to a professional level, and the devil in me wanted to keep him off balance. Still, there were more important issues at hand than flirting with a sexy Scotsman and for some reason I knew he was sexy.

 

“Well the cook and maid are supposed to come today, so we should probably wait.” I didn’t want to end the conversation with the doctor. He put me at ease whereas Harry put me on edge. Though some of that could have been all the horrible things I learned, which weren’t his fault. The doctor seemed content to wait for me to speak so perhaps it was normal for us to talk more. It might explain why his voice was so comforting.

 

“How did we meet?”

 

“I learned about your case, which is quite rare by the way, and tried to reach you for months. I was prepared to treat you pro bono but you seemed to disappear. Recently and quite by chance, I saw you running on the edge of your husband's property. I approached you and we discussed your condition. You seemed very keen on working with me and gave me your contact numbers. I called you several days later and of course you didn’t remember me, but you agreed to meet with me. We discussed a treatment plan of different therapies, some are mainstream and others are…less so.  

 

“What are you using bloody leeches or trying to balance my humors?” There was a definite snort and the doctor cleared his throat to try and disguise the noise, but I wasn’t falling for that.

 

“Hardly. I use hypnosis and regression primarily, but we also use different therapeutic methods to aid in memory retention. You’ve been doing quite well.”

 

“Hynosis? Are you taking the piss?”

 

“Do I sound like a man in the habit of 'taking the piss' as you so eloquently put it?” And admittedly Dr. Nasch certainly seemed like quite a stoic man who wasn’t given to emotional outbursts or displays. Still, he had a sense of humor and dry wit that I appreciated. He was steady and constant, which was something I needed right now. As I thought these things I realized that I had no way of knowing anything about the doctor, but everything in me said I could trust him.

 

“Not particularly, but then I was in an accident and you aren't here so who knows.”

 

“Eggsy are you aware of what happened to cause your memory loss?”

 

The change in topic was confusing and I wasn’t sure where he was heading with it, but I shrugged then realized he couldn’t see the gesture. “Harry said there was an accident.” There was that fucking pause again. I’d ever realized how effective a pause could be or how much information it could convey. Dr. Nasch’s pause told me there was a great deal more to the story than Harry told me.

 

“That’s not entirely accurate. Or to be blunt, it’s a complete lie. You were attacked, left for dead, and barely survived.”

 

_There was blood, so much blood everywhere. My whole body ached and I bit down a scream. There was a voice asking questions, over and over. Dean could have told this asshole that beating me to get information or to get me to obey was a waste of time. I felt myself grin and gave the voice my best chav attitude and accent telling him to fuck off because I didn’t know nothing. The blow to my face knocked a tooth loose but it was barely noticeable when compared to the constant and all-encompassing pain I felt in my stomach and chest. Dean at his worst never made me hurt like this, to the point where thinking was almost impossible._

_The man kept asking questions and I knew I couldn’t tell him anything. It was important that I not tell him anyting, more important than my life. Even so, I knew I was approaching a point when I might not be able to help myself because pain made you clumsy and vulnerable. It was clear what needed to be done. The man leaned down to ask me again and his breath was surprisingly pleasant. It was warm and minty, perhaps he brushed before our little visit. Honestly, it was such a delight when the criminal element defied Hollywood stereotypes. No fetid breath or abandoned wareh...well fuck so much for avoiding stereotypes. I collected as much blood as I could and spit it in his eye, literally into his open eye. I had a hunch that this fastidious man would lose his shit if he got bodily fluids on him. The next second there was a scream of rage and disgust before I felt meaty fists start to hit me repeatedly in an almost rhythmic pattern. There was just long enough for me to feel each blow and savor the intense pain before the next one fell. This was definitely not the same man from a moment ago. Whoever was hitting me had a sure and steady hand, perhaps a professional of some sort. The man  apparently got past someone spitting on him and was screaming something about…_ Kingsman.

 

I had a sense of dizzying weightlessness and disconnect before crashing back into awareness. Dr. Nasch was calling my name from what sounded like a great distance. His voice was quiet and tinny and I stared at the phone that I had dropped. I was panting trying to catch my breath and my legs felt unsteady. I fell into Harry’s office chair and dropped my head between my knees. What the actual fuck just happened? Was that a memory? If it was then I had to wonder if I should be trying to get my memory back. I didn’t recognize myself in the person I just experienced. The tinny voice from the phone finally reached me.

 

“Eggsy? Darling, are you alright?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is the next chapter. We have some divergence from the film. The characters are new but they do have a function.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who is reading, commenting, and giving kudos. You guys are the bomb dot com, just to take you back a few years. I took some time for family visits over the holiday so the chapter is later than planned. 
> 
> This chapter feels rough. I plan on posting another one this week because I don't want to leave it here for a week. 
> 
> As always I hope you enjoy and please feel free to leave any comments and critiques. Also I haven't read over this one too much, so there may be mistakes. If you see any let me know and I'll certainly address them.

_Eggsy? Darling, are you alright?_

 

The phrase was a drumbeat pounding through my mind. My head ached though I was unsure if it was an actual physical pain or an imagined pain from the memory. Merlin was still calling me and I struggled to put my thoughts together and report to him in a semi-coherent manner.

 

“Merlin I’m fine, bruv. Stop yelling my ‘ead is achin’ something fierce.”

 

The voice paused and there was hope, for a lack of a better term when he spoke, “Eggsy? What did you just call me?”

 

“I dunno. Sorry Dr. Nasch, my head, I just had a memory. It…I suppose it was what led to my injury. You were right, it definitely wasn’t an accident.” What had I called him? Merlin? As in the wizard from King Arthur, I must be on high grade medications to make that kind of mistake. Doubtless he would forgive me since I had head trauma, but it was bothersome being so confused.

 

“Perfectly fine Eggsy. Please don’t trouble yourself. May I ask what you remembered? You’ve never mentioned a memory about how you sustained your injuries.”

 

Mer…damn it…Dr. Nasch sounded disappointed but interested in the memory. I kept wondering if I wasn’t hallucinating him calling me darling. That would change our relationship from not being typical between a doctor and patient to being beyond unethical. Dr. Nasch didn’t strike me as the type of man that would put intimate relationships above what was morally right.

 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. There may be some things about me it was better you didn’t know.”

 

“You’ve told me about your hyper-awareness of your surroundings and I’ve seen you when startled. You almost broke my arm when I tapped you on the shoulder in the midst of a memory. You’re in top physical condition and you’ve got scars that are rather specific to certain professions. Additionally, you have no records that I can find. If I didn’t have your printed files I wouldn’t even know you exist. It seems everything about you was deleted shortly after you were released from the hospital. I’m betting that you were either a criminal or involved in some type of covert military or para-military organization.”

 

“And what if I was? How do you know which one? And how do you know I should even get my memories back. Dr. Nasch, what I remembered was...bad.” And bad was really an understatement, it had been gruesome and nightmarish. There was nothing amusing or entertaining about what happened to me and if that was what I lost, maybe it should stay lost. Maybe that was why Harry didn’t want me seeing any doctors. That might also mean Harry knew something about my past.

 

“Eggsy I’m going to ask you a very important question. I need you to think about it before you answer. Do you trust me?”

 

To most people the question might seem simple, but with my past and my current situation it was incredibly complicated. I could just say yes and I might get more answers but that wasn’t a guarantee. I also was not a person to trust easily, which made my feelings toward this man whose face I could not even recall so strange. He certainly made me feel safe and even if I was missing years of memories I had all my childhood memories intact. Years of Dean being involved in our lives and the abuse heaped on my mother and me. Dean taught me that you couldn’t always trust the people that were supposed to protect you. But did I trust Dr. Nasch?

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good lad.”

 

The simple phrase was soothing and arousing in equal measures. I supposed it made sense I would have an interest in older men but this didn’t feel like some psychoanalyzing shit. It felt right and good. I'd certainly dabbled in my fair share of 'alternative relationships' as someone once phrased them but I was never particularly drawn to any age or gender. I heard the downstairs door jiggling and someone putting away the keys in a dish as they entered.

 

“I have to go, someone just came in.” The line was dead and I blinked several times before hanging up the phone. I moved quietly through the house because it was almost certainly one of the staff members, but I was still on edge from the memory. I came around the corner and there was a fit, tall, dark haired man in the living room. If he was a cleaner or a cook he was built unlike any I'd met. He turned to face me, despite the fact I hadn’t made much noise if any. He looked to be in his early fifties but the thing that struck me most were his eyes. The blue could have been attractive but was cold and hard. His eyes reminded me of Dean before he would beat me for not selling enough drugs and demand I find some way to get him the money. He never much cared how I got it, just as long as he had what he wanted.

 

“Afternoon Mr. Unwin-Hart. Hope you’re feeling well today. I’m Vincent and here to clean your home.”

 

“Uhh, well it’s perfectly clean and I washed the dishes from earlier so you don’t have to stay.” His eyes sharpened and I struggled to understand what I said that had set him off. I had seen that look many times. It promised violence and said the person lacked any understanding of empathy or remorse. I stepped back and glanced around the room for a quick exit that wouldn’t bring me closer to the man. His voice was raspy and he sounded like a Londoner. If I had to guess I might say South London.

 

“You didn’t ‘ave to do that, sir. I’m paid to clean up the home.”

 

“Good heavens Vincent, calm yourself or you’ll scare the boy. Do forgive his rough manners. I’m Victoria and I’m the chef.”

 

The woman managed to surprise me and Vincent which was no simple thing. She was polite, posh as fuck, and beautiful especially for an older bird. I lived around people that worked as cleaners, cooks, janitors, maintenance, and many other professions. These two didn’t remind me of those types. They reminded me of the people Dean brought home; people that were dangerous and might kill you over an insult imagined or otherwise.

 

“I’ll just get out o’ your way then.” They watched me leave with more attention than walking out of a room deserved. I heard harsh and hushed whispers after I closed the door. I didn’t bother trying to listen because I honestly wanted nothing more than to leave them. The thought of staying inside was unpleasant but it was raining and frigid outside. I made my way down to the basement since I apparently just sat around like a giant useless lump, unless I was running around with a Scottish doctor behind my husband's back. The cold air seeped into the walls of the basement area and I looked around for the heating. After several minutes I gave up and and just wandered around the area. To give Harry credit the basement level looked like a professional gym. There was every type of machine and free weight imaginable.

 

I spent the next few hours staring out a small panel window as I worked my way through the various machines. By the time I was done I was sweating profusely but feeling better overall. Delicious scents wafted down from the kitchen and it was nice to know that even though she looked like a psychopath, Victoria might be a decent cook. Vincent wasn’t lurking near the stairs or kitchen so I didn’t bother looking for him. I stood in the doorway of the kitchen for a moment trying to stop my stomach from rumbling.

 

“Do come in and sit down. I’ve made Kedgeree, which you typically enjoy. If you don’t like it I can certainly make something else.”

 

I was sure it was delicious and even if it wasn’t I would never tell Victoria otherwise. She could serve raw tripe with a sprig of hemlock and I would eat it with a smile before I asked for anything else. Vincent looked tough and mean, which he certainly was but Victoria was truly frightening. I lifted a scoop of the Kedgeree and paused since apparently she was going to watch me eat, because that wasn’t strange as fuck. I was distracted by the taste as it hit my tongue. Holy fuck, this woman was definitely dangerous but she was a fucking genius too. It was the best food I could remember tasting. If this was the caliber of food she made it was a sin that I couldn’t remember the other dishes. When I told her as much I saw her first genuine smile.

 

“You are quite a sweet young thing Eggsy, and adept at flattery. Would you care for more?”

 

I shoveled the rest of the food into my mouth to make room for more. She tsked at my table manners, but food this good wasn’t something I was used to and I planned to enjoy it as much of it as possible. She looked fondly amused rather than actually offended which I counted as a win. Exasperated and amused was better than murderously angry.

 

“I don’t know where Harry found you, but he can’t be paying you enough.”

 

“Indeed? He does pay me very well, but if you’d like to suggest a raise far be it for me to argue.”

 

“How long have you worked for Harry?”

 

“My but you are chatty this evening. Off you go, I’ve got a four course dinner to make for two hungry men.”

 

So she wasn’t going to share details. I couldn’t say I was surprised, but I had enjoyed talking to her. Victoria seemed to warm up a bit with genuine compliments, but that was true of most people. I doubted Vincent would be a good conversationalist so I went to shower and change. I wondered if Victoria would let me make tea. It would be nice to sit outside, even if it was cold and wintry. I was starting to wonder how long I could be cooped up in this house without going stir crazy.

 

I took a quick shower before finding some loose fitting clothing in drawers marked with my name. The shirt was worn thin and soft as were the sweats but I didn’t recognize them. The shirt had some sort of logo that had long since faded but looked like it was once a letter.

 

_Is Kingsman worth dying for?_

_Fuck you!_

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, I fell into the dresser before a burly arm wrapped around me and pulled me upright.

 

“Careful sir. You don’ want to fall and injure yourself.” The raspy voice didn’t sound concerned for my well-being in the slightest. I stepped back and glared up at Vincent before stepping away from him. His hands bore scars that covered his knuckles, scars that did not come from cleaning people’s homes. Vincent finally left after watching me for several long moments. I’m not sure what he was looking for or what he saw but I was happy to have him gone. He reminded me too much of Dean, but infinitely more dangerous. What was the name I remembered...Kingsman? Who or what was that? I sat on the bed until the light faded wracking my brain for any new memories but there was nothing. I could almost feel the pieces missing. The gaping holes where something should be, but there was nothing to fill those spaces. It was infuriating. I was finally driven downstairs by the new scents from the kitchen. They were even better than lunch if such a thing were possible. At least there was one piece of my life that had promise. I smelled meat and herbs and potatoes among other things.

 

“Victoria luv, who do I have to screw to get a cuppa and some biscuits?”

 

“That would be me. Though a simple ‘please’ would suffice.”

 

Apparently my super secret spy training didn’t always work. Harry came up beside me and pressed a quick kiss my temple. I didn’t expect him to arrive back this soon. He gestured to a small kitchen nook where I sat and waited for the tea. Victoria put her foot down about biscuits not being allowed. She wanted to make sure I had an appetite for dinner. Even Harry looked intimidated by the woman, or maybe it was just that she had a knife and was using it with no small amount of skill.

 

“What delightful dish have you prepared tonight Victoria?”

 

“There will be wild mushroom toasts with fresh parmesan shavings and shallots to start. This will be followed with garden lettuces with garlic chapons and a red wine vinaigrette. The main course is roasted Cornish game hen with an orange and wildflower honey glaze paired with roasted asparagus and new potatoes with shallots and chervil. To finish there will be vanilla ice cream with espresso-caramel sauce served with coffee.”

 

“Harry, you have to give her a raise. She’s a bloody magician with food.” Harry gave a sharp look when I said the word magician but settled into a look of fondness.

 

“She hasn't even fed you any of the dinner yet. Did you put him up to that?”

 

“Certainly not. You know perfectly well I would request a raise without resorting to such underhanded tactics. I may be offended.”

 

“Harry don’t offend her while she’s cooking. That’s just stupid.”

 

“Very well Victoria, you’re determined to send me into the poorhouse trying to afford you. But if it makes Eggsy happy, then it’s money well spent. Now darling, I have some rather unfortunate news. I’m being called away on business that for some reason people I pay can’t address. I maybe out of town several days. Obviously we need someone here with you. I was thinking Victoria and Vincent could stay and help.”

 

I didn’t particularly want anyone staying with me, but practically I supposed it was necessary. Vincent was not on the list of people I wanted around when I was sleeping, nor was Victoria but at least she acted friendly. There really wasn’t anything I could reasonably say, other than yes which was galling. I was an adult and had been taking care of myself for years.

 

“Yeah, alrigh’ I guess.”

 

“I am sorry darling, but I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

 

The rest of the night passed in a blur, but I made sure to record a message for myself the next day. I hated that not even the one person I knew would be there. Whether I trusted Harry or not, he was still the only constant I could find in my life. All I could do was hope that Harry didn’t have to stay away too long.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were curious these are my fancasts for  
> Victoria: http://media1.popsugar-assets.com/files/users/0/88/11_2007/73418436.xlarge.jpg  
> Vincent: http://static.guim.co.uk/sys-images/Guardian/Pix/pictures/2013/10/7/1381145649964/Vinnie-Jones.-in-London-008.jpg  
> Kedgeree, because I never heard of this but I am so making some: http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/10421/kedgeree  
> Also the meal, if you're into 'food porn' which I so totally am: http://www.finecooking.com/menus/spring-menu-cornish-game-hens.aspx


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I'm not gonna lie. It's a dark chapter. Some bad stuff happens to Eggsy, but Dr. Nasch will help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *****TRIGGER WARNING*****  
> So that whole dub-con/non-con thing I mentioned? Yeah, one of those is happening in this chapter. It's more non-con than in the film. Please practice self-care and avoid the section after he wakes up from his nap if you might be triggered. I promise that this will end well for Eggsy, Harry, and Merlin. I have most of this outlined and we'll visit some dark places, but we'll also get past them. Also, if you read the non-con section please keep in mind this a characterization and in not necessarily my thoughts or opinions. I wrote the section in a deliberate manner and with some very specific story pieces in mind. Please feel free to ask any questions or offer comments regarding this section. 
> 
> If you have any questions or concerns, please let me know. 
> 
> As always please enjoy the reading and I love comments and critiques. There are some kind of fighting scenes toward the non-con scene and I've never really written fighting so I hope it's clear enough. If not please let me know and I can edit as needed.

I woke to an older woman offering me a cup of tea. Her voice was soft as she explained I had an accident. She told me my husband was out of town on business but would be back possibly later that day. The woman, Victoria, took me into the bathroom and showed me a wall filled with photos. The photos were mainly of me but some were with a man I didn’t recognize. My husband apparently, given the wedding pictures. She left and told me to come down for breakfast when I was ready. I took the time to shower, brush my teeth, and change before coming downstairs. The home was large and looked like some toff lived here. I supposed I married up, but I didn’t recall anything about my husband. Victoria was amazing. She made a full English breakfast and I couldn’t remember the last time I had one. The ridiculousness of that thought wasn’t lost on me.

 

“Eggsy dear, I need to go into town for some groceries. I’ll take Vincent if you promise not to leave the house.”

 

Vincent wandered in briefly while I was having breakfast and I didn’t fancy having him around with no one else here. Besides I could look around more without them checking on me every five minutes.

 

“Alrigh’ then.”

 

“Wonderful. Is there anything you’d like me to pick up for lunch or dinner?”

 

“Nah, if what you make is half this good I’ll be happy.”

 

“Very well then. Vincent, do stop lurking and come with me. I need someone for heavy lifting.” The man grunted but seemed willing to follow the order. It certainly wasn’t a request, though Victoria phrased it politely. Posh accents let people say all kinds of shit and get away with it. I watched them leave and walked through the house. Things looked expensive and I might have been tempted to steal some of the items if I didn’t live here. There was very little in the way of decoration and the house barely seemed lived in, more like a movie set. There were obvious pieces of furniture and some pieces of art but no personal touches. The only pictures seemed to be those taped in the bathroom, which was fucking weird. 

 

There was a shrill ringing that echoed through the home. I followed the sound to what looked like a study or home office. I supposed it belonged to my husband. I finally picked up the phone and there was a man with a warm voice and Scottish brogue on the other line.

 

“Eggsy? This is Dr. Nasch, you won’t remember me but I’ve been working with you the past couple weeks. I'm a neuropsychologist at Royal Berkshire.”

 

“Victoria didn’t say anything about a doctor.”

 

“Victoria?”

 

“She’s the chef and she said Vincent cleans the house.”

 

“Where are they now? Are they at home?”

 

“They went to the store. Harry left town and they’re staying with me until he gets back.” I didn’t know why I was offering so much information. There was a definite familiarity to him that engendered a sense of trust that wasn’t normal for me, especially given the situation. Dr. Nasch made me feel protected and safe.

 

“Eggsy I need you to look in your closet. There’s a box in one of the drawers with something inside.”

 

I followed his directions and found the camera. My hands were shaking as watched the videos. Days of videos talking about Harry, Victoria, Vincent, and Dr. Nasch. I sounded paranoid and almost delusional. The memories I mentioned sounded insane. A covert spy organization called Kingsman? I was a spy? To say that strained credulity was an understatement.

 

“Did I tell you about my memories?”

 

“Of course, we speak every day. How else would you know to make the videos?”

 

“And you believe all this spy bollocks?”

 

“I believe you have been through an unbelievable ordeal and you don’t strike me as a man that would fabricate a story like this. So yes, I suppose I do believe you. But Eggsy, what matters is whether you believe and what you remember. Every memory you’ve shared sounds genuine and believe me they have not all been pleasant.”

 

“When are we going to meet again Dr. Nasch?” I wasn’t sure if the longing to meet with this stranger face to face was something he could hear over the phone. But it was an almost desperate feeling. It seemed to me that if I could just meet with him everything would be alright, that he could solve any problem presented to him. There was a more mundane desire for physical comfort. For some reason I knew with absolute certainty that I would fit perfectly in his arms with my head tucked under his chin. I knew too that there would another warm figure on the other side of me. These two men would protect me, from anything.

 

“I think we can meet when Harry is back in town and at work. I’ll keep in touch. And Eggsy? Be safe.” There was genuine concern for my safety in his tone and I allowed myself to revel in the affection for a brief moment. The doctor was gone before I realized anyone was at home. He seemed to know someone was there. I smelled a hint of perfume before Victoria came around the corner. She looked at me and then the phone in my hand. Her eyes hardened and I set it gently back in the cradle trying to give her an innocent smile.

 

“Who were you talking to dear?”

 

“No one, it was a wrong number.” She gave me an arch look and admittedly it was a stupid line. It was a classic and obvious lie that was easily checked. I went to delete the number as she left the room but there was no incoming number, not even and unknown caller. When I went downstairs Victoria was having a whispered conversation and I only caught the tail end.

 

“…phone didn’t show any calls. Can they do that?” There must have been an answer I didn’t hear and then Vincent was in the doorway. He was a hulking mass that forced me to back up and look for another way around.

 

“Lunch will be a bit. Perhaps you’d like to avail yourself of the gym Mr. Uwin-Hart. It’s directly downstairs.” I nodded and made my way to the basement. I wanted to lock the door, but apparently there was little to no privacy in my well-appointed home. Though there was nothing technically keeping me from leaving I had a feeling the two staff wouldn’t make it easy. Not to mention I didn't know where to go or even where I was. All I could see were fields from every window. There was a winding gravel path that seemed to be the only entrance or exit from the property. I did several circuits around the gym while contemplating my situation. I didn’t put much effort into the routine and was barely sweating when I heard Victoria call me up for lunch. She made some kind of meat pie with whole hard-boiled eggs and it was delicious. Victoria made the most amazing dishes and I couldn’t be sorry that she was here to cook for me. It had been years since my mother made any kind of homemade food. She mainly just ordered in from somewhere. Victoria took my plate and shooed me out of the kitchen telling me I needed a shower. I didn’t think I smelled bad, but if she wanted me out then I had no problem leaving. My only thought was what to do with the rest of the day. There were a decent number of movies and even more books. I grabbed a few books and went to my room. It looked like Vincent had been through here already. The bed was made with sheets pulled tightly across the surface and my clothes from earlier were removed.

 

I sat reading and I must have dozed off at some point because when I woke it was dark outside. The lamp was on and I assume Victoria placed the tea on the bedside table. It was still steaming which was welcome since there was a chill in the room. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and took the tea into the bathroom and started the shower. The boredom of this life would kill me faster than anything. While several days of leisure were fine, not being able to go outside and at least wander around made me anxious and tense.

 

While I waited for the water to heat there was a soft click and glanced into the mirror. Harry stood behind me in his pressed suit. He looked over me and his eyes darkened. He was attractive there was no denying that fact. The pictures were decent representations of his appearance. Yet he seemed more dangerous in person. Dangerous and slightly off, something in his eyes said he might not be entirely sane. I wondered what happened to him or what he had done that gave him the touch of remorselessness in his gaze. That look reminded me of Dean and some of his meaner acquaintances. It reminded me of the two staff that were somewhere in the home. Along with that came the realization I was alone and dressed only in a towel with someone that looked at me with an air ownership.

 

He strode forward and pressed himself against my back. His body was a hard line beneath the fabric. I tried to turn around realizing this was not a safe position but he held me in place with a bruising grip. He pinned me between the counter and his hips. He turned my head and pressed a hungry wet kiss to my mouth. Briefly turning his attention from me he fumbled with a drawer and pulled out a small vial. I heard the rasp of a zipper and tried to struggle away but couldn't get the proper leverage. He was taller than me and carried more muscle so even though I struggled there was no way for me to get away. I thought about asking him to stop, begging even but I couldn’t bring myself to do that. To show this man what I perceived as weakness. You fought and if you lost you didn’t beg, but you sure as fuck got even. I angled my arm and drove my elbow into his sternum or as near to that as I could given the awkward angle. I tried to move and angle a blow to his face but lacked the leverage. He fumbled briefly after the blow to the chest because even if I was being held down I still knew how to fight. I kicked my leg out to hit his knee but dodged it just enough for the blow to land but without the impact and force needed to make him stumble.

 

He snarled and lost all pretense of being posh and a gentleman. He knocked my head onto the countertop several times with enough force to disorient me but not enough to actually knock me unconscious. The blows left me dizzy and gave him a chance to secure my arms behind my back with enough force that I worried he might dislocate them. I lost the towel in the struggle and was bared to that disturbing gaze full of violence and possessive intent. I cursed my apparently ineffective training because for all that I may have been some kind of spy I was useless against the man holding me down. 

 

The vial lay open on its side in front of me. I tried to focus on the liquid slowly oozing out. I felt two fingers shoved roughly inside me. I hissed at the burning pain as he hastily scissored me open. I supposed I should be grateful he bothered with any type of lubrication or prep, but all I felt was burning anger. I tried briefly to gain any range of movement but was shoved down ruthlessly. After the barest amount of prep I felt him pressing into me. His breath was hot on my neck and I tried to distance myself from what was happening. I wanted to think of Dr. Nasch and being held by two protective and loving presences but I forcefully shoved those thoughts from my mind. I didn't want something so good to be associated with this awful thing that was happening. I tried to keep my mind blank and it was surprisingly easy. I focused on a small crack in the plaster of the wall and felt a floating sensation as I finally disconnected from my body. I could hear the noises he made feel his sweat fall in droplets onto my back. The burning is my arms and ass were secondary and constant but possible to ignore in this state. I could catalogue sensations but not feel them. Finally he seemed to close to finishing. After a few more thrusts he spent himself and kissed a path down my neck to my shoulder. I shuddered. He must have taken it for pleasure because he loosened his grip and turned my face to his kissing me deeply and with a passion that was even more disturbing given what just happened. He murmured again how much he loved me and told me to clean up for dinner. I climbed into the shower numbly scrubbing my skin red and raw. If I happened to shed a few tears then they mixed in with the shower and slid down the drain with no one being the wiser.

 

I came down when Victoria called that dinner was ready. I mostly moved the food around my plate. She looked on in displeasure. She threw dark looks at Harry and I wasn't sure if she knew what happened or was just angry I wasn't eating. It didn’t matter what was in front of me and if someone asked me I couldn't have given an answer. I felt ill and betrayed. This man knew I had no memory of him and took me like it was his right. I knew that even if I hadn’t struggled the result would have been the same. That was not an expression of love but control. What kind of man had I married? Had he always been like this? This was worse than Dean and my mother’s relationship. At his worst I don’t think Dean ever did  _that_  to my mother. He was crass and an all-around waste of oxygen but even he seemed to care about my mother in his way.

 

Even after the shower I felt dirty. I realized there was a silver lining to my memory loss because I could forget this, if I wanted I could choose not to mention it in my recording. There would be no evidence for me except a sore ass and some bruising. It didn’t take me long to realize that wasn’t an option. I needed to know what Harry was like because no one else was going to tell me. Maybe Dr. Nasch could help me leave.

 

“Darling, are you alright?” Harry looked at me with seemingly genuine concern. The fucking prick should know what was wrong, unless he genuinely didn’t see the problem. Which was an entirely separate and more complicated issue.

 

“M’fine, just tired. I think I’ll get ready for bed.”

 

“I can bring you some hot cocoa if you’d like.”

 

“Yeah, cheers.” Because I had to say something and I would be damned if I said thank you to that man for anything. I walked slowly to my room wincing slightly at the pull from being fucked with almost no prep. Grabbing the camera I went into the bathroom and left a message for tomorrow. On the bright side, Harry being back meant Vincent and Victoria would probably leave and I could meet with Dr. Nasch. I finished my message warning myself about Harry when I heard him coming up the stairs. I fumbled with getting the camera in the wardrobe and managed to get into bed and even my breathing before Harry made it to the room. Thankfully he was going slowly with two cups of cocoa. He didn’t try to wake me and after hours I managed fall asleep. But not before Harry draped an arm over my stomach and pulled me towards him.   


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin comforts Eggsy who also remembers someone important. Eggsy confronts Harry about a few things.
> 
> ****Trigger Warning: mentions of child abuse, not really physical. Just skip the first paragraph if you're worried about it.****
> 
> ****Trigger Warning: mentions of sexual assault, not graphic though.****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised some Merlin/Eggsy comfort. Because that sweet kid needs some love after the last chapter. 
> 
> There are some similarities in dialogue to the movie at the end of the chapter. I tried not to do too much verbatim, but it does follow pretty closely. 
> 
> This isn't beta read. I'm not making money and I don't own any of the stories.
> 
> You guys are brill. All the kudos, hits, comments, and bookmarks. Thank you so much for all your support!

I didn't mention my fear of enclosed spaces to Dr. Nasch when he sent me into the MRI. Probably I should have mentioned it, but I never told anyone about that fear. It was yet another issue I could blame squarely on Dean. Before he and his goons started beating me for personal amusement or to make a point Dean liked to fuck with my head a bit. Not long after he moved in with us I got in trouble at school. As a new father figure he insisted that he would handle the discipline. My mother was only too glad to let him take over parenting, especially the less pleasant pieces. There was small electrical room for our building, well more of a crawlspace with a door. The space was barely big enough for an adult torso. All the kids knew about it and sometimes dared each other to go in  at night. One of my friends in primary school said a kid accidentally got locked in there and died. So everyone thought it was haunted. The space could get unbelievably hot especially in the summer with all the electrical equipment and no ventilation. It was also under the stairs and well insulated. Dean decided rather than a beating leaving me alone in that room would be the perfect blend of punishment and torture. I never realized how disturbing sensory deprivation was until that day. I couldn't have said how long I was in there, but I screamed myself hoarse. I scratched my nails down to the bloody quick trying to get the door open. When Dean let me out it had been over 24 hours but it could have been days. Ever since then I've had issues with enclosed spaces, at least the machine wasn't dark. I could feel my anxiety amplifying. According to the doctor it wasn’t my first MRI, but he had a specific goal today. He explained that they were going to show me pictures. I needed to tell myself who or what was in the pictures. The images started out slowly. There were people at a beach, people toasting at a party or club, a baby, a woman with long brownish blond hair, and so on. The pictures cycled back through faster and faster building up speed until I finally had to hit the call button to be let out. I was sweating and breathing heavily. The images had been dizzying and I felt like I was was going to throw up. 

 

Dr. Nasch took me to a private room. He said it would be more relaxing than the lobby. I sat on the well-padded soft leather couch in the office. The deep red and and plushness reminded me of another sofa I had seen somewhere. Dr. Nasch brought me a steaming cup of tea with cream and too much sugar, but it was a nice gesture. My stomach roiled and my whole body ached. More than anything I was trying to keep my shit together after seeing my message from the day before. My face was swollen and bruised and there were finger shaped marks on my hips. There have been many times in my life I enjoyed a bout of rough sex, but I like to think that even without the video I would have understood what happened to me. I struggled to reconcile that the soft spoken man I woke up to was capable of  _that_. Dr. Nasch noticed the bruises and my stiff gait. His gaze darkened when he saw me and I watched him try to control his anger. Maybe it was just that he didn’t like seeing patients he was treating injured, but I believed it was more personal. The doctor was everything I imagined from his voice. He was steady and calm even in his anger. He reached up apparently meaning to touch the marks on my cheek but pulled his hand back quickly. He didn't ask because of course it was obvious. I turned away unable to meet that intense gaze. 

 

“Eggsy, do you want to tell me anything?”

 

The kind look and soft voice had me looking down. I swallowed several times and blinked back the tears that threatened. I would not cry. I repeated the mantra several times and took deep calming breaths.  _He_ had taken enough from me. There wasn’t much I could do to change an event I didn’t remember, but I could do this. My reactions were something that could be controlled. I saw the doctor’s hand hovering over mine and heard his voice but the words didn’t register.

 

“Sorry, what?”

 

“I asked if it would be alright for me to touch you.”

 

I looked into his eyes. He was struggling with not touching me, I could tell. His body was tense like he wanted to pull me into his arms and pet me. Most of me wanted that too, but a small part said I didn’t want to let someone good touch me. That I would infect him with that piece of darkness that touched me and I couldn’t let that near him. To his credit, he didn’t pressure me but waited for a response with an almost preternatural patience. I drank the tea without much thought and he took the cup from me careful not to touch me in any way unless I gave express permission. It was enough to sway me. I moved slowly toward him, not for fear he would harm me. He waited and kept his posture as relaxed as possible. I leaned against his chest and wrapped my arms around him. He smelled like old books, wood smoke, and some kind of expensive cologne. I buried my face his soft sweater. 

 

“May I put my arms around you?”

 

“Yeah, please.” I closed my eyes as his arms came around me slowly. He gave me time to tell him to stop and he seemed to stay tense waiting for some sign that I was in any way uncomfortable. He finally lost the taut set to his body and relaxed into holding me. It was completely natural and felt so right. He moved a hand to my hair running his fingers through it slowly. My head was tucked under his chin and I felt myself melt into his touch losing the last bit of tension. That last piece I hadn’t even realized was present. After it was gone I wondered how long it had been there. My muscles that had been taught ached with a burn that spoke of near constant use. Dr. Nasch was practically cooing at me. He was speaking softly in another language, perhaps Gaelic. 

 

“I don’t want to leave.” It was true. I wanted nothing more than to stay with this man. I didn't care that I was married or that my husband might be worried. This was where I wanted to be, but there was a piece missing. I supposed that was the amnesia making all the blank spots more obvious. 

 

“I know lad. I don’t want you to go and I’ll find a way to help you. But Eggsy, I need you to do something first. It’s very important.” There was a weight to his words. I felt my lassitude fade and my attention sharpen. “You have to remember. Can you do that? For me?”

 

“Remember what?” I lifted my head and looked into serious green eyes. His hands came up and cupped my face on both sides. He moved forward slowly still giving me time to tell him to stop and pressed a soft kiss to me forehead.

 

“I can’t tell you, that’s the point. Sweetheart,  _you_  have to remember. Once you do we can help you.”

 

“We?”

 

“The woman in the photo, you recognized her didn’t you.”

 

It wasn’t a question, just a statement. He knew I would and suddenly a name came to me. “Roxy.” 

 

_'I'm Roxanne. You can call me Roxy.'_

 

_'I'm Eggsy.'_

 

_'Eggy?' A look of confusion and a bit of amusement, though no condescension which was a welcome change._

 

 _'Nah, Eggsy.' I emphasized the 's' this time and she nodded smiling more openly._  

 

“Exactly. Clever lad, I knew you could remember. You’ve always exceeded our expectations.” The statement was confusing but the praise made me smile. There was an almost smug satisfaction in me that  _I_ received his compliments from this man.

 

“She’s my mate, right?”

 

“Indeed, you two are rather like siblings and certainly give me enough headaches.”

 

“And made you lose your hair?” It sounded like something he would accuse us of with frustration or fondness depending on the day. 

 

“No lad, that was someone else.” He looked sad and almost  _broken_  for a moment so I laid my head against his chest. It might comfort him but it was more that I couldn’t stand to see him in pain. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. How did I know Dr. Nasch and how did he know Roxy? Where did Harry fit into this whole mess. The more I learned, the more questions I had. Dr. Nasch all but admitted we had a relationship and he clearly knew me beyond just being a doctor. It felt natural when he held me and there was a sense of rightness and home. I moved in closer and he tightened his arms around me pondering these new mysteries. 

 

_Kingsman***Kingsman***Kingsman***Kingsman***Kingsman***Kingsman***_

 

Later that night as I had dinner with Harry he asked what I did with my day. I told him nothing much and picked at my food. Eating or doing much of anything around Harry was difficult. Every time he moved I felt myself tense and struggled not to show it because how could I explain that. Of course I would notice the bruises and maybe it was odder that I didn’t mention the marks. But whatever lie he might tell would just piss me off and I didn’t want to hear his reasoning. Instead I tried to focus because Dr. Nasch said I had to remember before he could help me. There were bits and pieces but I was so tired it was difficult to concentrate. I was a worried I might have a concussion from the previous night but the doctor hadn’t mentioned any concerns when I had the MRI. Finally, I decided to bring up a topic Harry might be willing to discuss. It would also allow me to see how truthful he might be about things. 

 

“Did I have a friend?”

 

“You had several friends. You’ve always been rather popular. Why do you ask?”

 

“I remembered something today. A friend, well I think she was a good friend. She had blondish brown hair.”

 

“A memory? Really? Of what?”

 

There was a moment when I mentioned having a memory that his gaze sharpened. He hid it with a pleased smile but it was cold and didn't reach his eyes. He looked almost...worried. And wasn't that odd. Surely my  _doting_  husband would want me to regain my memories. Unless there was some reason he didn't, which was highly suspicious. I tried to keep my questions casual. 

 

“Just of a woman, Roxy. She was a mate.”

 

“That’s a rather unusual name. I don’t recall anyone specifically.”

 

“Are you sure? I'm certain I remembered her.”

 

I watched him closely and there was a fleeting look of frustration. I’m not might not have even noticed if I wasn’t expecting something to be wrong. He took a drink of wine probably to hide his irritation. The more I saw the more certain I became he knew Roxy and didn’t want me to remember. It was the why of it that escaped me. 

 

“I suppose it’s possible. There may have been someone by that name.”

 

“Harry, please tell me if you remember her.”

 

He sighed and put down his fork and took drank the rest of his glass of wine at once. His eyes had that same sincere warmth that I was beginning to doubt. The warmth was still there but it was mixed with pity when he spoke. 

 

“Eggsy, this isn’t the first time you’ve remembered Roxy.”

 

“What d’you mean?”

 

“We don’t talk about her.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because she moved away. Not long after your accident she just left.”

 

“Left? Where did she go?”

 

“Berlin, I think. Her office had a branch in the city and she may have been involved with someone.”

 

“You think?”

 

“Look it didn’t really matter where she went. You didn’t remember her just like you don’t remember me. Because of your accident.”

 

There was a wealth of bitterness in his tone. I could understand frustration and perhaps the bitterness, but it set me off. I didn't ask for this shitty hand I had been dealt. “It does matter. How can I trust you if you lie to me and hide pieces of my past from me?”

 

“Can’t you see I did this to protect you?  _Everything_ I do is to protect you. She left because she couldn’t handle what happened.  _Everyone_ left you, except me. I stayed and I take care of you. Why can’t I ever be enough for you?”

 

“So you keep things from me, to protect me? That’s control not protection Harry.”

 

“This isn’t just about you. I have to live with you. I’m the one that has to tell you no one else could be bothered with you. Sometimes I’m not strong enough. I try but I can’t always be strong and do what you need. Sometimes I have to do what’s best for me.”

 

Harry wasn’t quite yelling but it was a close thing. He seemed to realize this and excused himself from the room. I left the food and dishes out because the house needed something to make it look like actual people lived here. I went upstairs to the bathroom grabbing my camera from the dresser. I turned on the recorder, “He’s keeping Roxy from you. He says he’s protecting you but he…don’t trust him. Don’t trust Harry.”  


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ******TRIGGER WARNING: NON-CONSENSUAL TOUCHING AND REFERENCES TO NON-CON INTERCOURSE*********
> 
> Also I attempted smut/porn and I have no idea if it's in any way good, but I offer some smut to ease some of the angst. 
> 
> OMG guys, where did the month go? It's been crazy between my birthday and work I haven't had the chance to update. That being said, I'm not crazy about this chapter. It's a dream sequence so it's meant to be choppy but I don't know how I feel about it. Still you have been so wonderful with the kudos and hits. I've neglected my beautiful little shits for too long. I'm not even close to done with my darlings so there is plenty of story left. I may post another chapter this week. That's my plan at least. I don't know exactly when it will be, but I am working on it. My muse is being kind of pesky. Still thank you all so much for reading and hopefully people are still interested in the story. 
> 
> I don't own my boys, but I pretend they are mine. Also this is beta read and I know it has errors. I'll try and do better proofreading.

_I was in a dark open space. There was ambient light from outside the building. The space had an odor that spoke of disuse that was likely the result of rodent droppings and mold. I heard the soft click of dress shoes on old cement coming ever nearer. The person stopped just beyond a window with pale yellow light shining through._

_“Hello, darling boy.”_

_And that voice, I knew that voice._ Harry.  _  
_

 

_Another area of the building was lit up suddenly and I saw…Harry on top of me. The air seized in my lungs and I remembered what happened. The…_ incident _because my mind refused to use any other word for what happened to me, played out in front of me. I was tied to a chair and felt just as helpless as when it occurred though I had no memory of sitting or how I became tied to the chair. It struck me suddenly that I had so few memories and now one of the few I could access was so horrific._

_A hazy memory filtered to the surface replacing the violation and I could only sag with gratitude. I watched as Merlin kissed, licked, and nipped his way down my neck and torso. I was braced against a warm broad chest and felt teeth nip at ear. I bucked and cursed as Merlin started stroking my shaft. I looked down to see his mouth stretched around my cock and barely stopped myself pushing his head down further because let it never be said that Eggsy Unwin is rude to a lover. A long arm reached around me and pressed a hand to the back of Merlin’s neck. He looked up and nodded a faint smirk obvious in his gaze. I could only assume Merlin possessed supernatural powers that allow him to smirk with someone’s dick down his throat. The older man allowed his head to be guided down as Harry’s hips thrust forward forcing my cock deeper into Merlin’s mouth. I felt dizzy between the two men. Even though Merlin looked like the one caught I knew, as well as they did, that I was the one bottoming in this scenario. While they were certainly open to me topping them, Merlin and Harry were two of the most polite yet dominant men I’d ever met. And if I was going to bottom for anyone, it would be them._

_There was a shift in the light and my tension ratcheted. I was alone in some kind of communal shower. The room was empty which I knew was unusual and I decided to take full advantage and have a quick wank. Halfway through the door opened and someone came through. I cursed and just continued washing grumbling internally. I felt the person come up behind me and press themselves against me. I stiffened and tried to pull away but the person held me with one arm and reached for still erect cock. I fought against their grip but the tile was slick and they had a firm grip. The door opened again as I struggled to get away._

_“What the fuck is going on here?” The brogue was thick and furious. The person quickly let go and left with a whispered ‘later’. I tried to breathe normally as Merlin approached asking if I was okay. I sat under the water my hands twitching trying to figure out what just happened. Merlin sat near me but far enough away to give me space. I’d never seen the man look nervous but he was almost fidgeting. I suppose he was trying to decide what to do or say, because really what could he say._

_“He’s gone lad. You won’t be seeing him again.” Which was true and I nodded looking down. I don’t know why I let it upset me, because it wasn’t the first time someone touched me when I wasn’t into it, but Kingsman made me feel safe. I suppose I wasn’t expecting it here, which is stupid really because I’d seen the dirty looks and smirks they shared. I suppose I was lucky it was just the one and Merlin had come around when he did. “Thanks mate.” Merlin gave me a small odd smile that I couldn’t really understand. For a moment he looked like he was going to do or say something but he stopped with his gaze losing focus. He murmured and apology and left me in the shower. I washed quickly having lost any desire to masturbate after being attacked._

_Suddenly I was no longer seated or restrained but was running. Someone was chasing me and I knew if they reached me something terrible would happen. Every part of me wanted to look back, but I knew it would cost me precious seconds. I felt a jerk on my shirt and stumbled. A taller and heavier body pinned me to the ground. I flipped over and managed to dislodge whoever was on top of me but something heavy cracked against my temple. I don’t know if I screamed or not but it was the worst pain I’ve ever endured. Then it happened again and everything went black. It the moments before everything faded I saw someone. It was someone I recognized but my mind couldn’t place. I just remember blue eyes, dark hair, and then nothing._


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Ahem* So uh, hey peoples. It's been...a while. Awkward. I have always intended to come back to this story but my Muse sort of crashed and burned. I was in a hellaciously stressful job that left me no free time and feeling awful about myself and everything else. On the bright side, things are going much better. I'm in a new job, my Muse seems to be flowing a bit more. I've been trying to figure out how to come back to this story. I have some plot points going forward, but getting to the end feels a smidge intimidating. So, if anyone is still interested in this story here is the next installment. Also if you're interested in a Marvel/Kingsman crossover I've got that thing happening. (Shameless self-promotion)

I jerked awake and was sitting up in bed before my eyes were open. My heartbeat was thundering in my ears as I looked around the room. I had the impression that it should be familiar but it wasn’t a place I knew. There was a man lying next to me with dark curls whose outline beneath the sheets filled me with something close to dread. I slipped out of the bed quietly and went into the bathroom making sure to lock the door. The pictures mocked me and I felt a surge of nausea as I looked over each image. My pulse thundered and everything in me said that there was something terribly wrong here. When I tried to remember or place any of the images there was a blank. I went to the sink and splashed cold water on my face. The reflection was not what it ought to have been. There were small lines, nothing obvious but more than someone in their early 20s had, my hair was longer and styled differently. I no longer had the gaunt cheeks of someone who missed meals at times to make sure someone else was fed. I noticed my frame was more muscular but leaner. I looked…dangerous.

 

My breathing and pulse slowed and I tried to recall my dreams, but they faded quickly. I felt like I needed to leave, to run as fast and far as possible. But I couldn’t recall how I got here or where here was. As I searched my mind for any clue there was a knock at the door.

 

“Eggsy. Darling, are you alright?”

 

I didn’t want to be in here with him. There was something on the edge of my brain that was shouting a warning at me. The doorknob jiggled and the knocking became more insistent.

 

“Eggsy, are you alright? You shouldn’t lock the door, it isn’t safe.”

 

“I…I’m fine. Just had a nightmare and needed the loo.”

 

“Eggsy, open this door. We need to talk.” The voice was sharp and the order barked in tone I was achingly familiar with from my years with Dean. Wrapping it up in a pretty accent didn’t make it any better.

 

“I’ll be right out. Just, please I need a minute.”

 

“I’ll be right here.”

 

I forced myself to take several deep breaths. My hands were shaking and my palms sweaty. I rubbed them on the soft knit sleep pants before I left the bathroom.

 

The man from the photos sat at the edge of the bed with his arms resting on his legs. He looked up and smiled sadly as I left the bathroom. He told me his name and about our life and my accident. I let him usher me downstairs for tea. He said there was no point in either of us trying to go back to sleep. We sat there and watched the sun rise before he left to get ready for work.

 

When he was gone I sat at the table in that silent house for I don’t know how long before a shrill ringing dragged me back to a more conscious state of mind. I followed the sound to a study and picked up the phone.

 

“Eggsy?” It sounded like a young woman. And she sounded so familiar. “Eggsy, are you there?”

 

“Yeah, who’s this?”

 

“Don’t you remember?” She sounded so sad and I wanted to remember, but shouldn't she know about my memory. 

 

“No , I can’t. There’s something wrong with me.” I meant to sound sarcastic but it came out lost and sad. I hated when I sounded like that. 

 

“Think Eggsy. Please try and remember.” Her voice was soft but firm. I knew her, for years. I knew we were close, best mates, and wasn't that a laugh. Me and some posh bird being mates. 

 

“R…”

 

“Yes…” Her voice was eager and tinged with hope. I searched and felt the beginnings of a headache but ignored the pain. I could do this. 

 

“Roxy?”

 

“Yes! Eggsy, yes it’s me.” Roxy sounded like she was in tears and the woman never cried. Tough as nails and twice as sharp she was.

 

“Where are you?”

 

“Closer than you think. We’re here for you Eggsy, but you’ve got to help us. We’re trying to find you, but we need your help.”

 

“What can I do? I don’t want to be here Rox. I don’t like it and I don’t think I like Harry.”

 

“Just keep doing this Eggsy, remembering. The sooner you remember the sooner you can help us find you.”

 

‘But why can’t you just come now? Rox? Rox! Don’t go.” The line was dead and I tucked my legs up and buried my face. Never let them see you cry. It was one of the first lessons I learned from Dean. The next was never let them know what matters to you. It was the first thing they would take.

 

After what seemed like hours I sniffed and wiped my face. Standing I headed into my room and pulled out a box with a small digital camera. I went into the bathroom, locked the door, and turned on the camera. As I watched my previous messages I ground my teeth. No fucking wonder I didn’t trust my husband in the bathroom with me. It didn’t occur to me until much later in the day that I hadn’t heard from Dr. Nasch and that I remembered where the camera was without any prompting.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is some action and Eggsy remembers more, like a lot more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important stuff happens and I hope it turned out okay. Narrating action is not one of my strong suits. If you want a multi-chapter character study then I'm your girl. 
> 
> This chapter picks up later in the day the last chapter ended.
> 
> THANK YOU!!! To everyone still reading, commenting, kudos-ing, etc. I'm so pleased that people are still interested. 
> 
> I do love hearing from you, did you love it, hate it, see errors that need to be addressed? Please let me know.

Later that morning a man and woman arrived. She introduced herself as Victoria and the man as Vincent. Even though I didn’t trust them the food she made was aces. I was still struggling with everything and managed to enjoy what little I could keep down. Victoria questioned if there was something wrong with the food since I barely touched anything except to move it around on my plate. I couldn't bring myself to do more than shrug. Victoria muttered under her breath before taking the plate and sending me out of the room while she cleaned and made dinner. I found myself sitting in a spare room upstairs until Harry came home. Harry frowned at the small amount I ate during dinner and I could only assume Victoria told him that I didn't eat much at lunch either.

 

I tried to clean up but Harry sent me out of the kitchen as he rinsed the dishes and placed them in the washer. After changing into my pajamas I sat on the couch and picked at my nails. My mother used to give me such shit about it. I tried not to dwell on the loss of my mother and sister that I learned about from the camera but it wasn't working. Nothing seemed real or right and I was so confused. I looked up when Harry entered with a cup of tea. He offered it to me and sat down next to me on sofa.

 

“What’s wrong love? You’ve been very quiet this evening.” Harry placed a hand on my knee and patted me in what I was sure he meant to be a comforting manner. 

 

“I…just wondered why I can’t go to a doctor about my memory. It’s awful not being able to remember…you…our lives together.” I wasn't above trying to manipulate the situation if it helped me and it was true. Not remembering years was awful and meant I couldn't trust anything. 

 

“Eggsy, I’ve taken you to every specialist in the country. I’ve consulted with specialists from around Europe and even in America. There isn’t anything to be done.” He tried to look sympathetic but I could see the beginnings of anger around the edges. I knew that look and part of me said to shut it and just things as they were. But I couldn't just leave this alone. 

 

“Yeah, but couldn’t we try again? I mean what if there’s new technology or breakthroughs since the last time. Or what if my mind is healing and they can work with that?”

 

“Why can you never be satisfied with what I’m offering you? Do you lack anything in your life? You have clothing, a large home, a gym, a chef, a cleaning person. What is it that you aren’t getting from me? I do _everything_ for _you!_ ” Harry’s voice continued to rise until he was shouting. He stood and paced the room but ended his tirade looming over me.

 

“It’s not that. I just want to know, to remember on my own.”

 

“You wouldn’t remember anything. Why can’t you just take my word?” Harry's face was pinched with anger and I could see that he was close to completely losing his temper. 

 

“Because I don’t trust you!” I let the words that had been building for what felt like ages burst out. The videos, the calls from Roxy and Merlin, everything was just wrong.

 

“You ungrateful slag!” Harry was standing directly over me. He raised his hand and brought a fist down on my cheek faster and with more strength than I believed he was capable of. He trapped me on the couch and raining down several blows to my face and torso. Tasting blood from one of the fists to my face I watched Harry abruptly stand and leave the room.

 

Once he was gone I turned onto my side and lay there trying to breathe without wincing for who knew how long. My ribs ached and I figured they were bruised but not broken. While I was laying there I tried not to blame myself because I had picked a fight with him. I knew better from years of experience, I knew not to push someone. Even though I couldn't remember everything I knew that this relationship was fucked and I had to find a way out. I must have lost some time because the next thing I knew Roxy was on the phone with me. The grogginess and daze were wearing off and I was becoming righteously angry.

 

“Eggsy, what happened? Are you alright?”

 

“He hit me Rox. The unbelievable bastard beat me, on top of every fucking thing else he’s done.”

 

“That…doesn’t sound like something Harry would do. He’s certainly capable of many things, but hitting you was never one of them.”

 

“You…know Harry.” That made me nervous because Roxy was smart and didn't trust people easily. 

 

“I do Eggsy, and I know Merlin, but you knew that.”

 

“Why would you two leave me with him?” I tried not to sound angry and hurt but I was sure I didn't succeed. 

 

“Eggsy, describe Harry to me.” The change in topic threw me off for a moment but she sounded like she was hinting at something. Trying to give me a clue about a puzzle without giving me the answer.

 

“You said you know him. Why do you need me to describe what he looks like?”

 

“Close your eyes and concentrate. Think about _Harry_ and describe him. The first time you met him. Anything.” Roxy continued with that gentle and cajoling tone. She hardly ever used that tone so I tried not to resent the question.

 

“I…Roxy, I can’t remember. You know I can’t.”

 

“The Eggsy I know didn’t believe in that word. Now try you utter pain in my arse.”

 

“It…was...” There was a sudden image in my mind of a tall fit man with styled hair, a bespoke suit, umbrella, and sunglasses looking utterly out of place in front a police station. Then we were in the pub and I tried to get him to leave before Dean’s dogs killed him. I watched a man almost twice my age take on Dean’s whole gang because they called me a whore. The man was beautiful and moved like nothing I’d ever seen before. When the man was finished he sat down and finished his beer. His brown eyes were warm and lit with a bit of mischief. And I was a goner.

 

“Oh God, I don’t…”

 

“Describe the man that hit you.” She suddenly sounded eager for me to finally say the answer that she had been prodding me towards. 

 

“He’s…around 6 feet tall, broad shoulders, about my age with brown hair, and blue eyes.”

 

“You know this. You just need to remember.”

 

“He’s not Harry.” _HesnotHarryHesnotHarryHesnotHarryHesnotHarryHesnotHarryHesnotHarryHesnotHarryHesnotHarry_. The words reverberated in my head. I ran to the bathroom and stared at the photos. The ones with Not Harry and finally noticed the almost invisible lines where the pictures where altered. Whoever the man was he was good and a liar and he was dangerous.

 

“That's it, Eggsy. Now get out! You have to go _now_. We’ll help but you have to leave.”

 

I peeked out of bathroom and into the bedroom and couldn’t see or hear anyone. Creeping down the stairs I winced at a creaking floorboard and waited to see if anyone heard. Not Harry had walked out the front door but I hadn’t heard a car and had no idea where he was. The doors had locks on the inside and like a moron I never checked escape routes. I heard a Scottish brogue in my head over and over telling me to know every possible escape route on a mission. After several minutes of searching through every junk drawer and window and door ledge I found the key to the side door. As soon as I walked outside a motion detector light switched on bright as day in the darkness of the country. _Well done Eggsy, some fucking spy you are._ I stayed in the shadow of the house and hoped that Not Harry wouldn’t notice the giant beam, as if that was likely. As I came around the side of the house I decided to make a run for it, fuck trying to get a car or anything, I just needed to leave. Before I could understand what was happening someone tackled me and knocked me to the ground. I cried out when bruised ribs hit the ground and my head knocked hard against the gravel of the drive leaving me dizzy and slightly nauseated. Even though I was dazed I kicked and hit where I could and managed to knock my head into whoever was on top of me. There was crunch and string of profanity before something sharp bit into my neck. Fuck. I was so goddamn stupid. I tried to stay awake and tried to hold on to the memories of the real Harry not the fake one. I fixed the image of Harry smiling full-on, the one where the corners of his eyes crinkled and his whiskey colored eyes watched me fondly. Then there was darkness.


End file.
